


Dress Me Up and Call Me Pretty

by Kenda1L



Series: The Porn Chronicles [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Aftercare, Alternate Universe: Porn Stars, Anal Orgasm, BDSM, Biting, Bottom Keith, Creative Restraints, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, Edging, Exhibitionism, Flexible Keith, Fluff and Humor and Smut, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Humor, Lingerie, M/M, Marijuana, Marking, Night Clubs, PWP, Plot What Plot, Praise Kink, Recreational Drug Use, SHEITH - Freeform, Sheith Love Each Other, Shiro has a big dick, Smut, Sort Of, Sub Keith, Teasing, Top Shiro, Verse Relationship, Very Very Minor Mention Of Past Rough Childhood, Videotaping, belly bulge, dom shiro, happy birthday shiro, switch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 23:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18304082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenda1L/pseuds/Kenda1L
Summary: Shiro gets to dress Keith up for their night out. Keith gets the deepest of dickings in return. That's it. That's the story. You're welcome.(Part of the Pornstars Verse)***“Can I dress you?”Keith looks up, cheeks puffed out with cereal like a chipmunk as he shovels Cinnamon Toast Crunch into his mouth like a heathen, arm curled protectively around his bowl. If Shiro didn’t already know about his rough childhood, he’d seriously wonder if he’d spent time in prison. Keith swallows slowly and wipes milk off his chin. “For tonight?”Shiro nods and sips at his coffee with a calm he doesn’t feel. Keith hums thoughtfully, tapping his spoon against the bowl. Shiro waits, counting his breaths to keep them steady. Finally, Keith points the spoon at him. “No heels.”Shiro lets out a breath and grins. “Of course not. Thanks, baby!”Keith smiles indulgently at him. “I mean, it is your birthday.” He leans over the table to give him a milky, cinnamon-ey kiss. “Anything for you.”





	Dress Me Up and Call Me Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This should still make sense even if you haven't read the main story, [Keith and Shiro Make a Porno](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17420633/chapters/41008769), but you will probably get more out of it if you do. Since this is set in the future, there are also minor references to future stories and plot lines. Many thanks to Lola for helping me out with head canons and fleshing out the PornAU!
> 
> I'm not sure if this is the kinkiest thing I've written, but it sure feels like it to me. Please enjoy, I'm gonna go hide now.

“Can I dress you?”

Keith looks up, cheeks puffed out with cereal like a chipmunk as he shovels Cinnamon Toast Crunch into his mouth like a heathen, arm curled protectively around his bowl. If Shiro didn’t already know about his rough childhood, he’d seriously wonder if he’d spent time in prison. Keith swallows slowly and wipes milk off his chin. “For tonight?”

Shiro nods and sips at his coffee with a calm he doesn’t feel. Keith hums thoughtfully, tapping his spoon against the bowl. Shiro waits, counting his breaths to keep them steady. Finally, Keith points the spoon at him. “No heels.”

Shiro lets out a breath and grins. “Of course not. Thanks, baby!”

Keith smiles indulgently at him. “I mean, it _is_ your birthday.” He leans over the table to give him a milky, cinnamon-ey kiss. “Anything for you.”

 

***

 

Keith stares at the outfit neatly laid out on their bed. “You want me to go out in this?” he asks incredulously.

Shiro looks up from his phone and smirks a little. “To a club. It’s not like you’ll be out of place.”

Keith sighs and picks up the tiny pair of red sailor shorts dubiously. “Lance will never let me hear the end of this,” he mutters.

Shiro pouts. It’s not attractive. “You don’t have to wear it,” he sighs.

Keith wishes that hangdog expression didn’t work so well on him, but Shiro plays him like a first chair fiddler. Keith drops the shorts to the side and picks up the small scrap of black next. He unfolds them, already knowing what they are. “Really?”

Shiro shrugs, eyes wide and innocent. “I just thought your regular underwear might show underneath the shorts.”

Keith looks back at the shorts and then the underwear. Shiro isn’t wrong; his normal trunks only come an inch or two down his thighs but the shorts...don’t. The ones in his hands look like half his ass will fall out the bottom, even if the rest is cut fairly conservatively. At least they’re soft, some sort of microfiber rather than the lace and satin Shiro prefers, red with little polka dots. They kind of remind him of Minnie Mouse, which is convenient since the shorts look like they came straight out of Mickey’s closet. He sighs heavily as he caves. “I love you.”

Shiro’s face lights up like sunlight and Keith can’t regret anything that puts that look on his face. Shiro gets off the bed and comes over to hug him and lay a kiss on his forehead. “I know, I love you too. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Keith hugs him back, then steps away and drops his towel. Shiro leers and Keith preens a little under his dark gaze. “Hey, how much time do we have before we meet the others?” Shiro bites his lip, looking torn, but ultimately shakes his head.

“Not enough. Get dressed, I’ll be out in the living room.”

“You’re not going to watch?” Keith asks coyly, holding out the underwear. Shiro just kisses him again and steps back.

“I want to wait until you’re completely dressed.” He leaves Keith alone in the room to get dressed.

Keith turns back to the outfit, resigned. He slides the underwear on and can’t deny that their softness feels pretty good, but he was right about them not covering the bottom half of his ass. His dick barely fits. “He couldn’t have gotten those ones made for men?” he grumbles, adjusting himself. “Or just a pair of damn briefs?” He throws the shirt on next, a simple white vee neck several sizes too big so that the neckline falls off one shoulder and the hemline skims his thighs.

He stills when he looks up and catches himself in the mirrored doors of their closet. He smirks. Grabbing his phone, he twists in front of the mirror so one polka dotted cheek peeks out from under the shirt, then pulls on the front hemline so his entire shoulder and half his chest is bared, just a tease of nipple showing. He takes a few pictures and sends the best one to Shiro, grinning smugly when he hears a loud groan from the living room. “Evil!” Shiro shouts and Keith laughs before getting back to business.

The shorts fit perfectly, the high waistline giving him the illusion of curves he doesn’t have. He sits to slip on the _pièce de résistance:_ a pair of opaque black thigh highs. He grimaces as he pulls them up over his knees and halfway up his thighs. He’s going to be pulling them back up all night.

The last thing he does is dig around in their closet and pull out his ratty old converse high tops. They’re not the prettiest, but they’re red and his best choice. “Baby,” he calls as he stands and looks down at himself. “I think you made a miscalculation. You can’t even see the shorts under the shirt.”

“Just tuck the front part in,” Shiro calls back. Keith rolls his eyes but does as told, then checks himself in the mirror. He raises one eyebrow; he looks _hot._ Not that he’s surprised, Shiro has good taste. He pulls his hair back into a stubby ponytail and after a moment’s contemplation, digs out an eyeliner pencil Allura had left at their house at some point. He rims his eyes with only minimal smearing and eye poking. He’s kind of proud of himself. He snaps another picture for posterity’s sake.

Keith leans his back against the the bedroom door frame, one leg and arm bent as he tries his best to channel No One Puts Baby in the Corner energy. “Oh _lover boy,_ ” he drawls with an exaggerated pout. Shiro looks up from the couch and chokes. It’s very gratifying.

“Stop,” Shiro says when Keith relaxes out of the pose. His voice is firm, raspy, and stops Keith in his tracks. Slowly, he raises his knee back up. Shiro grabs the camera they use for stills on their blog.

“Really?” Keith asks dryly, but stays still as Shiro moves around him, taking pictures from different angles.

Shiro drops the camera just enough so he can look at Keith with a devilish grin. “I’m not the only one who’s been dying to see you like this.” He exchanges the camera for one of the video cameras on a tripod, aiming it at Keith.

“I thought we didn’t have time for this,” Keith says as Shiro hits record and slinks over to him, hips swaying just a little more than necessary.

“We don’t,” Shiro agrees, but that doesn’t stop him from hooking his hand around Keith’s bent knee and pulling him in, groin to groin. Keith gives a small groan as Shiro rolls his hips against him. He lets his head drop back and hands rest lightly over Shiro’s chest, brushing his thumbs against his nipples. He looks amazing as well: dark tank top and black jeans that wrap around his thick thighs and ass like a second skin.

“So what exactly are you doing, then?”

Shiro’s smile is dark and full of promises. Keith shivers under him. Shiro is in one of _those_ moods. It doesn’t happen often; Keith likes to be in control and Shiro likes to _be_ controlled, but every once in a while something rises up between them. Something that makes Shiro want to take, makes Keith want to give and give and give in to his quiet commands and possessive hands. It sends a thrill through Keith that turns his knees to jelly and makes him want to drop to the floor in worship.

Shiro reads Keith’s submission in his lowered lids and pliant body. He pulls him away from the door jam and turns him to face the camera, chin hooked over his shoulder and hands hot and demanding against his body. “I’m showing you off,” he says, scraping his teeth against Keith’s jaw and sucking a small mark just under his ear.  Keith lets his eyes flutter closed and leans back, letting Shiro take his weight. A hand trails down his chest and over his nipples, detours to circle each button on his shorts. Keith takes a shuddery breath and tries to push up into the light pressure but Shiro chuckles and pins Keith’s hips against his. Keith gives a frustrated whine even as heat blooms low in his belly and goosebumps ripple out from the bruising grip.

Shiro moves on, running a fingertip along the edge of the shorts, curls it under the hem and tugs it even further up Keith’s thigh before abandoning that to play with the top of one thigh high. He snaps it against Keith’s leg; the tiny shock has his heart pounding and lungs jumping in his rib cage as he pants helplessly. He turns his head and mouths mindlessly at Shiro’s ear and jaw, anywhere he can reach while still held captive. He’s achingly hard already and probably peeking out of the top of the underwear at this point but he doesn’t care. Shiro takes him apart so easily, piece by piece with his tight grip and possessive hold as he wraps a hand around his leg and lifts it up, turning it outwards. His hands are so big; they easily span three quarters of his thigh and he would never admit to a size kink but he _definitely_ has a size kink.

Shiro hefts his leg up further and hooks it over his elbow. Keith has to go up on his toes. It puts him off balance and he reaches back to grip Shiro’s hip and neck even though he knows Shiro will never let him fall. He grimaces faintly, thighs burning as Shiro keeps lifting his leg, gripping his calf tight and bringing it up nearly to his ear. He huffs out a strangled laugh. “Baby, just because I can do the splits doesn’t mean I’m into ballet. Especially not in clothes this tight.”

Shiro laughs and kisses his calf lightly. “I just wanted to show them how flexible you are,” he says innocently as he tugs Keith’s collar down to bite at the ball of his shoulder. He holds him that way for a moment longer until Keith’s leg starts to tremble with the effort, and then relents. Keith would complain about sore muscles but the hand that had been holding his leg is now pressed firmly over his cock, tiny shifts and movements that have him keening and fighting the grip on his hip.

“Baby,” he pants, muscles twitching with pleasure.

“Is that really what you want to call me, sweetheart?”

Keith chokes and moans even as he flushes bright red with embarrassment. He knows what Shiro is aiming for and it sets fire to his cheeks and dick. “Fuck, I.” Shiro lightens the pressure over his cock until it’s barely a memory of sensation. He knocks his head back against Shiro’s shoulder in frustration. “Damn it, come _on!_ ” Shiro just continues to brush his fingers feather light over the bulge in his shorts, along his thighs and up to scratch his stomach through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He’s not going to let up. Shiro has the patience of a saint and the wicked intentions of a demon. He could move his own hands, follow through where Shiro teases, but his own stubborn pride and need to please won’t let him.

“Please,” he says, not quite ready to give in.

Shiro hums and lays a kiss against the corded tension in Keith’s neck. “Please what?”

Keith murmurs the answer Shiro is looking for on a breath, so quiet he’s not even sure he said it aloud. Maybe he just mouthed it, or thought it. Sometimes it feels like Shiro can read his mind. Regardless, he chooses to ignore it, unsatisfied with Keith’s attempt.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you,” he croons. Keith glares, embarrassment and arousal and frustration spinning and mixing in his veins, setting them alight.

Keith grits his teeth, fights through his need for control and says it again, loud enough for Shiro to hear even if he doubts it will be caught by the camera. He gets three delicious seconds of pressure for his efforts before Shiro lets up again. He nearly cries from frustration. “Oh come _on!_ Just. Please, I need...”

“Come on, baby, let them hear you.” Keith doesn’t answer. Shiro bites and sucks hard against his shoulder. “Please _what?_ ” he hisses as Keith cries out and tries to buck up into him.

He breaks. “ _Fuck,_ fine! I need you Daddy, please I need you so bad, _fuck!_ Need you, please,” he sobs, past feeling shame. “ _Daddy!_ ”

Shiro kisses his temple gently with a murmured, “Good boy.” And then he lets go.

Keith stumbles with the sudden lack of warmth and stability. It leaves him discombobulated for a moment until he looks up and sees Shiro smirking wickedly. “Sorry baby, but it’s gonna have to wait. You took too long and now we’re going to be late.” He turns to the camera and probably winks like a jackass as he tells it, “To be continued.”

Keith lets out a garbled sound and leaps on Shiro’s back. Shiro lurches forward under his weight but steadies himself with a laugh as Keith humps ineffectively at his back. “You’re such an asshole,” he bites harshly into Shiro’s neck and jaw.

Shiro laughs again as he shakes him off. “Such a mean thing to say to the birthday boy,” he teases, but he’s adjusting himself so he’s obviously not as unaffected as he pretends. “Seriously though, Matt just texted to ask our ETA.” Keith rolls his eyes and grumbles insults as he tries to straighten himself out as best as possible.

“You owe me for this,” he says, pointing a finger still shaky from adrenaline and arousal. Shiro just nods, perfectly at peace, and jingles his keys. Keith takes them and pulls off the house key before tossing them back into the bowl they keep by the door. “Nuh uh, we’re taking an Uber. I’m going to need _all_ the drinks after that little stunt.” He shuffles through their pile of coats and gloves and hats, looking for something that will actually keep him warm in this skimpy outfit. “I’m going to freeze my balls off, just so you know.”

“No you won’t,” Shiro says calmly, nudging him aside so he can dig through the pile himself. He digs out a hoodie and pulls it over Keith’s head, laughing as his hair frizzes and falls half out of its ponytail.  Keith sticks his arms through the sleeves as Shiro fiddles with his phone, probably ordering a car. He bites down his smile when he sees the faded old NASA logo. It’s not as big as it was when he was a kid or even when he was a freshman, but it still skims his thighs a good half inch below the shorts. It’s plenty warm enough for Berkeley weather, even in February. He curls his fists in the sleeves, warm fuzzies overpowering the lingering horniness. Shiro pulling on his old Sigma Pi snapback kills the rest of it.

“You’re not seriously wearing that frat bro leftover, are you?” he groans as he tries to scrape his hair back into some semblance of order.

Shiro glances up as he threads his bangs through the hole, grinning. “Should have burnt it the last time you threatened to,” he carols as he throws on his leather bomber. He holds out a hand. “Ready?” Keith takes his hand and pulls it to him to kiss the engagement ring on his finger, then tugs him out the door.

 

***

 

The club is hot and sticky and crowded. Music pulses and vibrates Keith’s eardrums, his bones, his lungs. They make their way slowly through the masses until they reach the VIP table their friends had rented in honor of Shiro’s ‘seventh’ birthday. A cheer goes up as they approach, people spilling out of the booth for hugs. Keith glances over the group, counting heads. Alongside their usual group, Matt had flown in from San Diego for the party. Adam and Curtis smile goofy and still a little starstruck in the background along with Lotor and his business partner, Sen-something-or-other. Keith glances over at Lance to see how he’s taking Allura’s ex being there, but Lance is too preoccupied with staring at Keith’s legs, eyebrows creeping up. Keith sighs, resigned, and strips off the sweatshirt.

There’s a moment of silence as their friends take notice. Lance and Matt let out twin wolf whistles and then high five. Keith glares and punches them both in the arm. “Oh, shut up.”

Shiro wraps his arms protectively around him as Keith crosses his arms self consciously over his chest and glares mutinously at their friends, daring them to say something. Allura is the first to speak up, gently uncrossing Keith’s arms and holding them out for her to take him in. She smiles widely. “You look stunning, Keith.” She glances at Shiro with a small smile. “I’m glad to see it all fits well.”

Keith closes his eyes briefly. Of course she was Shiro’s co-conspirator. He sighs and leans down to pull one of the thigh highs back into place. “You couldn’t have included a garter belt or something?” he grouses, but smiles to let her know he’s not actually annoyed.

“I apologize, I thought it might be a step further than what you would be comfortable with,” she says, looking genuinely contrite. She lifts her skirt a little. “Would you like mine? I’m sure it would fit.”

“It’s fine,” he says quickly. “Thanks though.”

“Hey guys, let’s maybe focus on the birthday boy, yeah?” Hunk says. Keith could kiss him.

“Yes, _please,_ ” Pidge adds, shooing people back into the booth. “I’ve been staring at Hunk’s cupcakes for an hour now because he wouldn’t let us eat them until you guys got here.” She throws a pointed look at them. “So sit down and let's light these damn candles already!”

The next hour passes in a haze of frosting and vodka. Keith makes sure to get a video of Shiro, happy face lit up by the giant number seven candle stuck into his little cupcake as their friends drunkenly sing Happy Birthday in their worst possible voices. He licks chocolate frosting off Shiro’s lips and flips off their friends when they groan and cheer obnoxiously. He drags Shiro out onto the dance floor as soon as he can, staying on the edges so they can still talk without shouting.

“Do you remember the first time we did this?” he asks, lips brushing Shiro’s ear as he rolls his hips into Shiro’s.

Shiro brushes his lips fleetingly over Keith’s cheek as his hands travel down his back until they rest just above the swell of his ass. He pulls him in tighter. “You mean when I finally got my head out of my ass and admitted that I liked you?”

Keith laughs, throwing his head back with delight. It quickly turns into a gasp as Shiro attaches his mouth to his neck, scraping teeth over his Adam’s apple. He sucks, warm and wet and mind blowing. Keith’s hips buck involuntarily, half chubbed in .6 seconds flat. Shiro’s chuckle vibrates his own vocal chords, or maybe that’s the low moan that gets lost in the music. He tightens his arms around Shiro’s neck, encouraging him to continue, but Shiro pulls back. Keith whines unhappily. Shiro presses a short, firm peck against his lips. “Sorry baby, but I don’t think you want to try and explain away that mark to your students at discussion group tomorrow.”

Keith growls petulantly.“Trip to the beach. Octopus attack.”

Shiro smiles fondly and shakes his head. “Very believable.”

Keith whines, frustrated, and knocks his head against Shiro’s collarbone. He doesn’t _care_ what a bunch of baby physics students think about him. He wants his fiance’s mark on him, wants to display it proudly for all to see. He wants everyone to know who he belongs to. He just... _wants._ He pulls back so he can pout, eyes wide and pleading. “I just want everyone to know I’m yours.” He goes in for the kill. “Please, Daddy?” He watches smugly as Shiro’s pupils dilate.

“You little…” He smashes his lips against Keith’s, biting roughly until he lets him in. His hands slide down to cup his ass, pulling him up onto his toes so they’re the same height.

Keith goes willingly, reveling in the strength and power in Shiro’s body. He so often keeps it in check, naturally soft and careful until Keith pushes, reminds him that Keith doesn’t always want careful or need soft. Watching Shiro break and give in paradoxically makes him feel safe. Cared for. It makes it easier to relent the control he normally clutches tight to his chest. All that intensity focused only on him is heady as any drug, the bruises from his fingertips exhilarating as a freefall and comforting as a parachute.

“You’re such a brat,” Shiro pants when they part. He’s flushed, lips red and swollen. Keith wants to bite them. Instead he smirks and steals Shiro's snapback for himself.

“You like it.”

Shiro butts his head gently against Keith’s temple and pulls back. “I do.” He catches Keith’s thigh and pulls it up around his hip so he can grind hard and filthy against him. Keith drops his head back and this time when Shiro latches onto his throat, he sucks hard enough that the bruise will be there for weeks. Keith’s cock twitches in the confines of his tight shorts and he feels a drop of precome soak into his ridiculous Minnie Mouse ripoff underwear. He hooks his leg more firmly around Shiro’s waist and drops his hand to cup Shiro’s cock through his pants. “Jesus _Christ,_ ” Shiro hisses. He grabs Keith by the wrist. “We’re in public!”

Keith snorts and tries to twist his wrist free. “When has that ever stopped us? Besides, I can see at least three other couples further along than we are right now.”

Shiro tightens his grip in warning, hard enough to ache for just a moment before loosening and rubbing his thumb gently against the soft inside. “Not here. I have plans for you and they don’t involve hand jobs on the dance floor.”

Keith has to close his eyes against the wave of overwhelming desire. “Okay,” he says, too quiet to hear over the music.

Shiro must read his lips. He leans in. “Okay, what?” he asks into Keith’s mouth.

He doesn’t even try to fight. “Okay Daddy. Take me home?”

 

***

 

They crash through the front door of their home, too busy trying to devour each other to care about potential damage to their drywall. Shiro kicks the door shut behind them, hands full of Keith as he carries him in the direction of their bedroom.

They don’t get that far. Shiro knocks into something and they go crashing to the floor just outside the bedroom door. Keith hits the ground with an _oomph_ but Shiro’s hand cradles his head and keeps him from hitting the hardwood. They stare at each other in stunned silence. Keith snorts at the ridiculousness of the situation. Shiro’s lips twitch and Keith bursts into helpless giggles. Shiro joins him a moment later, heaving whooping breaths against Keith’s chest between laughs. Keith wraps his arms around Shiro’s shoulders and hugs his shaking body to him. He could stay like this forever, crushed beneath Shiro’s heavy, happy weight. He squeezes tighter with his arms and legs and nuzzles the crown of his head contentedly.

“A...are you okay?” Shiro manages to get out once his laughing fits start to subside. He pulls back enough to search Keith’s face, eyes still crinkled with amusement.

Keith nods and slides one leg up Shiro’s flank. He pats Shiro on the chest. “Yes, Daddy. You protected me very well.” He means it as a tease, but the atmosphere changes the moment the words hit the air. The heat in Shiro’s eyes is like a sucker punch. He bites his lip. “You always take care of me, Daddy. Always make me feel so good.”

Shiro runs a finger along Keith’s bitten raw lip, presses against it until Keith opens up and draws it in. “Want me to make you feel good now, baby?” Keith nods eagerly. Shiro smirks and pulls his finger free, trailing it, spit slick, down his chin and over his chest. He tweaks one nipple through his shirt and rolls his hips down. The pressure is delicious against Keith’s poor, weeping and neglected cock. He lets out a small whine of pleasure that quickly turns unhappy when Shiro pulls back to kneel between Keith’s legs, untangling them from around his waist. Keith lets them drop open, not caring how wanton it makes him look. The idea of being spread whorishly under Shiro, open and eager for whatever he feels like giving.

Shiro takes his hands, first kissing the ring on his finger and then the circle of faint bruises around his other wrist. He’s still getting used to the updated prosthetic Matt had designed for his birthday and Keith’s wrist hasn’t been the only casualty this week. Shiro’s lips twist and his brow furrows with guilt as he traces the darkening red marks, but Keith shuts that down fast. “I like it. I like all your marks. Want more.”

Shiro’s hesitance recedes, air of command dropping back over him like a mantle. He kisses the inside of Keith’s wrist, then sucks a mark into the vulnerable skin. Keith groans, legs twitching as blood blooms in the wake of Shiro’s lips. He moves up the inside of his forearm, leaving nips and marks in his wake that make Keith’s eyes flutter and his head spin and his cock drip. “Daddy, please,” he gasps. Shiro presses his mouth to the crook of his elbow and sucks hard. Keith keens desperately, hips twisting uselessly as his free hand digs into the thick muscle of Shiro’s bicep. “Please, please, _fuck!_ ”

Shiro shushes him. “It’s okay, baby. I got you.” He lays one last kiss to the livid, aching mark in his elbow before prying Keith’s fingers from his arm and pressing both hands to the floor above his head. “Can you keep those there for me, sweetheart?” Keith nods wordlessly. “You’ll stay completely still, right? Be good and let me do whatever I want.”

Keith shudders, struggling against his innate need to keep a tight rein on himself and hide his invulnerabilies deep down where no one can find them and pick at them, rip him open at the seams.

Shiro rips him open, but only to sew his badly sutured wounds back up so they can finally heal.

Keith places his heart and trust and control in Shiro’s capable hands.  He nods. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll be good.”

Shiro’s happy grin settles the last of his trepidation. Warmth tingles through his extremities as Shiro gently pets Keith’s messy hair out of his face and runs a thumb under one eye, rubbing off a smudge of eyeliner. He closes his eyes and lets himself float in the sensation. It’s not quite subspace. Unlike Shiro, he has a hard time allowing himself to go under; something in him always pulls back from the feeling. This half haze is nice though, especially combined with the soft fingers and lips that touch every inch of him, pressing Shiro’s love into his skin.

Shiro’s hands slide down his flanks and back up the insides of his thighs. He pushes them apart until his thighs burn and the shorts ride up, digging almost painfully into his skin. When Shiro lets go, he keeps them where they are, even when his muscles start to tremble under the strain. Shiro kisses and bites from one stocking up to the edge of the shorts, then repeats it with the other. He pulls Keith’s shirt out of his waistband and pushes it up to continue his ministrations until every muscle in Keith’s body is quivering with the effort of staying still. Shiro finally, finally reaches his mouth and presses warmly against him. “Relax, baby, you’re so tense.”

Keith chokes out a laugh. “I wonder why?”

Shiro chuckles and pulls away, massaging Keith’s aching thighs firmly. “Are you saying it’s my fault?”

“Yes,” Keith hisses as Shiro runs his hands up to hook around Keith’s hipbones, giant hands framing his trapped cock. “Shiro…” Shiro digs his fingers in and Keith startles, ticklish. “Shiro!”

Shiro’s grin is made of mischief. “What was that, baby?” He digs his fingers in again and Keith yelps. His signals must be crossed because the ticklish feeling only turns him on more. It takes everything he has to keep from trying to escape or maybe bowl Shiro over and rut against him until they’re both coming. Instead he pouts, big and over-exaggerated.

“Stop teasing me, Daddy.”

Shiro firms his hands, petting instead of tickling. “Is that really what you want, baby?”

Keith goes quiet. Teasing and foreplay are his favorite parts, especially when bottoming. Shiro drives him wild, ramping him up and up and up, gets him out of his own head the way pot and alcohol and fucking hot frat bros used to before Shiro came back into his life.

Besides, the more relaxed and horny he is, the better. Shiro is _big. '_ Monster cock' is the description most often used by their fans.

Slowly, he shakes his head. Shiro studies him carefully. “I need to hear you say it, babe. Do you want me to stop teasing?”

“No,” Keith says quietly, then louder, “No Daddy, I want whatever you want to give me.”

Shiro smiles happily and leans down to press a lingering kiss to his forehead before peppering more over each eyelid, his cheeks, his mouth and down his throat. He pulls Keith’s shirt off and lays kisses against his chest before he latches onto one nipple and bites. Keith shivers and keens as the sting bolts in a straight line to his groin. Shiro licks and gently circles the bud with the tip of his tongue in apology. He can’t feel too bad about it though, because the second Keith relaxes, he does it again. “ _Fuck,_ ” he hisses, arching his back into the feeling.

Shiro pushes him firmly back down with a hand against the center of his chest. “I thought I told you not to move,” he says sharply.

Keith sucks a breath in and winces guiltily. “Sorry, Daddy,” he says in a small voice as he drops his eyes. “I’ll be better, promise.”

Shiro nods and pats his chest. “It’s okay, baby. Just don’t do it again.”

Keith nods fervently and bites his lip until it hurts as Shiro switches nipples and goes back to his ministrations. He’s not sure if he’s relieved or frustrated when Shiro moves on soon after, but can’t complain too much when he licks and kisses and bites his way down Keith’s torso. He stops at the waistband of the shorts and curls his fingers under the fabric to pull them down enough to scrape his teeth over his belly button. “Lift your hips,” he commands in a rough voice. It’s not easy with his legs still spread so wide, but he manages to shakily obey.

Shiro glides his hands around and squeezes his ass, a silent promise, before pulling the zipper down so slowly Keith feels every millimeter. When he has it all the way down, he presses his fingers between his cheeks through the underwear, pulling them apart as much as the fabric allows. Keith pants, staring up at the ceiling, unseeing. His legs are shaking so hard he’s not sure he won’t collapse. He’s just about to give in despite how badly he wants to obey when Shiro eases him back down and nudges his legs out of their painfully splayed position. Keith practically sobs with relief. Shiro shushes his softly, massaging his thighs and hips until the pain recedes into a pleasant ache. “You’re doing so good for me,” Shiro croons softly. Warmth blooms in Keith’s chest and he smiles happily, basking in the praise. “Relax, you don’t have to do anything now. Just let me take care of you, okay?”

Keith closes his eyes and nods. His muscles are so exhausted he’s not sure he could tense up even if he tried. That was probably the point. His skin feels oversensitive, every nerve ending sparking as Shiro works the shorts down and off his legs before returning to press his mouth, hot and damp, over the head of Keith’s cock. He shouts, leg feebly kicking involuntarily. Shiro pulls back with a frown. Keith cringes. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Shiro presses his fingers to his lips to quiet him. “Here I thought I’d tired you out enough to keep you from moving,” he tsks. “Guess I’ll have to keep you still another way.”

Keith stops breathing. When he starts again it’s with a moan that is so loud it startles them both. Shiro lets out an incredulous laugh. “Wow, that eager, huh?”

Keith nods with a desperate whine. The idea of being held immobile while being reamed _does_ _things_ to him that even tying Shiro up doesn’t. Shiro pulls his hand back from Keith’s mouth to tap a finger against his own, thinking. Then he pulls away. Another whine breaks from Keith’s throat without his permission. “Wait!”

Shiro squats down next to Keith’s sprawled form and cups his cheek. “It’s okay, baby. I’m just grabbing the lube and cuffs. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Keith shakes his head resolutely. Shiro sighs. “Baby, we’re not fucking without lube,” he says firmly.

Keith pulls himself together enough to smirk. “Can I please move for a moment, Daddy?” Shiro blinks, wary, but waves acquiescence. Keith pulls his knee up and digs his fingers into his Converse to fish out two travel packets of lube. He waves them triumphantly in Shiro’s face.

Shiro’s surprised look melts into amused fondness. “Always prepared, huh?” he says as he plucks the packets out of his hand, dropping them on the floor as he strips his clothes off quickly and efficiently.

“I’m a goddamned Boy Scout,” Keith agrees, dropping his leg. Shiro crowds back over him and rips open one of the lube packets. He frowns when Shiro reaches behind himself though. “Wait!” he blurts, confused. Shiro pauses. “I thought we… you were…” Shiro’s eyebrows creep up. “I thought you were going to fuck me?”

Shiro’s lips form a silent _oh_ as he leans back, studying him. “Is that what you want?” he asks carefully.

“I mean, yes? I thought that’s what we were doing with the whole…” he looks down at the thigh highs and underwear he's still wearing, then up where his hands are slack over his head. It’s the wrong thing to say, apparently, because Shiro pulls back more, face shuttering, aside from the crease between his eyebrows.

“Baby, just because I dressed you up like…” _A girl,_ Keith finishes in his head as Shiro waves at the discarded clothes, “and we’re switching things up, doesn’t mean anything. Subbing doesn’t automatically equal bottoming.”

Keith stares at him, unable to believe that they’re actually having this conversation right now. “I know,” he says slowly. “Pretty sure I’m the one who taught you that.” Shiro at least has the decency to look abashed. “Shiro. Baby. I want your giant fucking cock in me. That’s it. That’s all this is. So are you going to give me what I want, Daddy, or am I going to have to take it?” Keith hooks his legs around Shiro’s waist and pulls him in hard enough that he topples forward.

Shiro catches himself before he crashes into Keith. He pushes into Keith’s personal space until he can feel his breath against his lips. “Do you really want to be a brat right now?” he cautions, eyes dark and forbidding. Keith’s heart skips and kicks up a notch or three.

“What are you going to do, punish me?”

“I could,” Shiro says calmly. “But you should know that your punishment would be to stop this and just go to bed instead. Is that what you want?”

Keith’s eyes widen in alarm. They can’t stop now. Keith might die if they stop now. “No, Daddy.” He looks away and meekly unwraps his legs.

“Then I suggest you stop mouthing off.” Shiro catches his legs before he can drop them, eyeing one bent knee speculatively. Shiro presses his leg further against his chest. He smiles when Keith grunts inquisitively. Shiro pulls Keith’s other leg up. “If you won’t let me go get the cuffs, I’m going to have to get creative,” he answers Keith’s unanswered question. He shimmies Keith’s underwear down his hips and halfway down his calves.

Keith wheezes as the implication becomes clear. His cock drips against his stomach. “Oh my God,” he groans.

Shiro grins wickedly. “Hands down by your sides. Lift your head, baby.” He cradles the back of Keith’s skull as he folds Keith in half and slips the underwear behind his neck. “Okay?”

Keith shifts a little, settling the fabric a little more comfortably against his neck. The position strains his neck and hamstrings but nowhere near as badly as the last position Shiro had put him in. His ankles are by his ears, and the scent of his own precome is strong in his nose, back curled off the floor and ass up in the air. A wave of arousal hits him so hard his dick twitches and his balls draw up. “More than,” he gasps through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to come just from this.

Shiro definitely notices. His smirk is positively evil as he drags one finger from the tip of his cock down over his balls to press against his rim gently but with intent. “Does my baby need a moment?” he taunts as Keith heaves giant breaths and clenches his fists so tightly his joints hurt. Slowly the moment recedes enough that he can think again.

“Don’t be mean, Daddy,” Keith chides.

Shiro hums. “Never,” he says firmly, and then swallows Keith down to the root in one go.

Keith shouts wordlessly and comes violently, just like that. Shiro gags and pulls back in surprise, but not quickly enough. One last spurt lands on his cheek and slowly slides down as they stare at each other in shock. Shiro’s lips curl up and he chokes back a laugh. Keith would drop his head back to bang on the floor if he could. “Fuck,” he groans, burning with embarrassment.

“Oh, baby,” Shiro croons, muffling giggles as he kisses one thigh. His wet cheek smears against Keith’s leg and he licks it up like an afterthought. “I’m sorry, I pushed too far.” Keith frowns; this is not the kind of _out of control_ he was looking forward to. “Hey now, none of that.” Shiro spanks him lightly on the ass. Keith’s dick twitches valiantly. “We’re not done yet.”

“We’re not?” Keith asks, but the warmth of embarrassment is being quickly replaced by warmth of a different kind.

Shiro wipes the rest of the come off his cheek with one thumb and then runs it over the head Keith’s hypersensitive cock. Keith tries to twist his hips to get away from the pleasure-pain but his position keeps him from being able to move much. He whimpers. “You’re just going to have to come again. On my cock, this time.” Keith curses up a storm as Shiro starts to jerk him off in earnest now. “You know what to say to make this stop,” Shiro reminds him, but Keith shakes his head quickly. Like hell is he safe wording out now.

Shiro lets go, but only long enough to grab up the open lube packet and dribble the rest of it directly over Keith’s hole. The cold is startling, a jolt to his system, but it’s quickly overwhelmed as Shiro slowly presses a finger into him, down to the third knuckle in one go. Keith gasps at the intrusion, clenchin instinctively until he forces himself to relax into it. Shiro doesn’t move except to lean over and suckle sweetly at Keith’s softened cock until he’s fully hard and rocking carefully between Shiro’s mouth and finger. When Shiro pulls out and presses in again, the glide is easy. When he adds a second a minute or two later, Keith is prepared for the gentle burn and heat of Shiro inside him.

It doesn’t take long before Shiro has four fingers and his tongue in Keith’s ass, thumb flirting with his rim. He can’t keep track of the sounds and words babbling out of his mouth.

Shiro pulls back enough to say, “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, _please_ ,” Keith begs.

Shiro taps him lightly on the ass. “Please, what?”

“Please Daddy, fuck me, fill me up make me yours I need you…” the words tumble thoughtlessly from his lips as desperate tears gather at the corners of his eyes. He sobs as Shiro pulls his fingers free, hole aching with the emptiness left behind. “ _Please._ ”

Shiro leans over to kiss the tears away as he slicks up his cock. He taps the head against Keith’s rim teasingly. Keith opens his eyes to throw him the darkest glare he can manage. “God damn it, Shirogane, if you don’t get inside me in the next two seconds I’m going to -” Shiro presses in to the hilt, pushing all the air from Keith’s lungs as he does.

“Fuck, baby,” Shiro gasps, coming undone. His hands clench and spasm around Keith’s thighs and he’s trembling where his hips are snug up against Keith’s ass. “You’re so tight.”

Keith gapes soundlessly up at the ceiling. His eyes won’t focus. Neither will his brain. His entire body has narrowed down to where Shiro is splitting him wide. It hurts so good, too much and not enough all at once. He squeezes helplessly around Shiro, who groans and and drops his head like it’s too heavy for his neck. He’s sweating and red, struggling to keep still and allow Keith to adjust. He doesn’t need to; Keith wants the burn and friction of too big too fast too hard. He’s not sure what sound he makes but whatever it is, Shiro understands. He pulls out slowly until just the head is still inside him and then pushes in again and again, unceasing and implacable as the tides or the stars in the sky. He sees sparks behind his eyelids as he squeezes them tight. The pinpricks of pain in his palms as he digs his nails in are the only thing keeping him from floating away completely.

Shiro presses down on Keith’s belly. “Fuck,” he hisses, eyes dilated and lips slack as he stares down at him. Keith groans at the added pressure and drops his head back as much as the underwear behind his neck will allow. “No,” Shiro growls. “Look.” He shifts back on his heels to free up his other hand so he can wrap it around the nape of his neck and pull his head back up. “I said _look._ ” He shakes him by the neck until Keith opens his eyes with a gasp and looks down his body. Shiro traces his finger lightly around a faint bump distending his stomach, entranced.

It takes a moment for him to realize what he’s looking at. “Is...is that your cock?” he asks, voice faint through the ringing in his ears.

Shiro nods wordlessly, unable to take his eyes off the bulge. “I think it’s this angle,” he says with a shaky voice. He pulls out and pushes back in and Keith _sees_ Shiro move inside him. He nearly blacks out as his balls draw up and he breaks Shiro’s order to keep still so he can clamp a hand around the base of his cock. He is _not_ ready to come yet. Not when the evidence of how connected they are is right there, visible and impossible to ignore even if he wanted to. He pants as Shiro lets go of his neck and bats away the hand around his cock, replacing it with his own. He squeezes tight enough Keith whines and claws at Shiro’s thigh in an attempt to pull him in even deeper.

“Daddy,” he whimpers helplessly.

“Shh, baby,” Shiro coos, rubbing Keith’s hip comfortingly even as he thrusts back in hard. “You’re taking me so well.” Keith nods mindlessly, torn between watching and throwing his head back as pleasure crests and crests, dammed by Shiro’s hand and the strength of Keith’s desire not to come until Shiro lets him.

Shiro’s been talking this entire time, Keith realizes vaguely. “Huh?” he asks, dazed.

Shiro smirks. “Back with me, sweetheart?” he says with an edge of mocking. Keith would probably blush if he had an ounce of blood left anywhere but his dick. He blinks up at him in response, unable to form words. Shiro grins meanly down at him and presses down hard as he thrusts in so deeply Keith swears he feels it in his lungs, his heart. Or maybe that’s just Shiro brushing up against his soul, twining together with his own until he can’t tell where he ends and Shiro begins.

Apparently, the deepest of dickings turns Keith into a sappy pool of bad poetry.

The words coming out of Shiro’s mouth are poetry too, although not the conventional sort. “God, you love this, don’t you? My big cock pushing out of that tiny little belly of yours. Bet I could jerk myself off like this.” He cups his hand over the bulge and rubbing up and down over it. They both groan in unison. “Fuck, baby…”

“Let me,” Keith begs, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Please, Daddy, please let me. Wanna feel you, make you feel so good.”

Shiro makes a needy sound even as he gently brushes hair out of Keith’s eye. “You always make me feel good,” he murmurs sweetly, but he takes Keith’s hand and moves it to his stomach anyway. “Go ahead, baby. Make me come.”

Keith sucks in a huge breath and presses down, rubbing his hand over his stomach the same way he would if he were palming him through underwear. The effect is immediate; Shiro groans louder than Keith’s ever heard him, hips jerking as if trying to get deeper even though his hips are flush to Keith’s ass. The movement changes the angle, making the hard bump under his hand even bigger. It also squeezes Keith’s prostate firmly between his hand and Shiro’s cock. He bites back a scream as he rubs faster, firmer. A feeling unlike anything he’s ever experienced before grows under his hand and spreads like wildfire. Pleasure builds in a crescendo as Shiro grinds inside him, each breath ending on a whine.

Keith sucks his stomach in on a gasp and whites out as he shakes apart in Shiro’s arms. The feeling rolls over him in waves. Every time he thinks he’s done, another one sneaks up behind him and pulls him under again. When he finally comes back to himself, Shiro is staring down at him with shock and awe, lust and love. “Did you just…” Keith follows his gaze down to his own dick which is still mostly hard, nearly purple and still weeping a frankly ridiculous amount of come. Keith looks back up, equally shocked. For all the times he’s bottomed, he’s never managed one of the anal orgasms Shiro always raves about. Now he understands.

Shiro crashes forward, hooking his arms under Keith’s shoulders as he seals their lips together and pounds into him, hard and frantic as he fucks his tongue into his mouth. Keith wraps his arms around his neck, unable to do anything but cling to him for dear life. Shiro wraps a hand around Keith’s cock, jerking him hard and fast and perfect. He can’t control the sounds coming out of his mouth, nor does he want to.

He doesn’t last long, despite having orgasmed harder than he has in his entire life just minutes before. The pleasure almost hurts, overstimulated and overwhelmed, like someone had hooked a line under his naval and was trying to draw it out through his dick. Shiro lets out a strangled yell as Keith convulses around him. He rams in a couple more times and stops, red faced, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut as he shudders. Realistically, Keith knows that come inflation is something confined to fiction, that no one man is able to come that much, but then again, he'd thought belly bulges also fell into the realm of kinky alien dick fantasies. The idea of Shiro filling him up to bursting still sends another small blurt of come out of his poor, overworked dick. Keith lets out an exhausted groan. “I am never going to come again.”

Shiro huffs out a laugh and collapses on him. Keith yelps, legs stretched past even his flexible limits. “Owww.”

“Shit!” Shiro jerks back up guiltily. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His softening cock slides out as he reaches up to pull the underwear from around his calves. Keith tries to hide a wince. He’s going to be walking like a geriatric with two hip replacements tomorrow. He _feels_ like a geriatric with two hip replacements as Shiro slowly and carefully helps him lower his legs to the ground. He can’t quite hold back a whimper as his thighs and hips and ass ache sharply. Shiro’s face crumples. “Shit, _shit_ , I shouldn’t have left you in that position so long. I shouldn’t have been that rough.”

Keith flops his arm around until he manages to get a hold of one of Shiro’s hands. “Baby? Shut up.” He uses the last of his strength to pull him down to the floor. “That was the best fucking orgasm I’ve ever had, so don’t you dare fucking apologize for it.” Shiro is still biting his lip, brows furrowed and eyes tense. “Takashi, please don’t make me move to kick your ass.”

Shiro huffs out a soft breath and nods. “Okay. I love you.”

Keith smiles, overcome with affection for this sweet, impossibly sexy man he was somehow lucky enough to not only meet, but fall in love with and somehow convince to fall in love with him. He lifts his hand to cradle his cheek. “You are the best thing in my life,” he says. It’s perhaps a touch too earnest, but he has never felt the need to keep anything from Shiro, whether they be earnest declarations or the dark things that hide deep in the secret places of his heart.

Shiro kisses the palm of his hand. “And you are the best in mine.” He lets go, but only to pull Keith’s shoes and the thigh highs off. He’d half forgotten he was even wearing them. Shiro digs his knuckles into Keith’s thighs, working at the knots there. He groans. He knows it will help but right now it hurts like hell. Shiro gentles his touch. “I think we still have some of that CBD cream left,” he offers.

Keith shakes his head. “Fuck CBD. Please tell me we still have some of those pot brownies Hunk made us.”

Shiro laughs. “I’m pretty sure you ate the last one when you graded those papers a few weeks ago, but I think you’ll enjoy Lotor’s birthday gift,” he says with an impish grin as he army crawls towards his discarded jacket and pulls out a small baggie with three fat joints inside. Keith perks up and makes a _gimme_ gesture. With another laugh, Shiro tosses it to him.

“It will never stop being weird that your boss-slash-business partner regularly supplies you with top grade marijuana,” Keith tells him as he fishes one out.

Shiro shrugs. “That is nowhere near the weirdest thing about our relationship with him,” he points out as he stands up and stretches his back. Keith watches him appreciatively. Shiro catches him looking and puffs his chest out proudly. “I’m going to go find a lighter.”

Keith shifts carefully as he waits, assessing the damage. He’ll live, but it’s going to be a rough few days. “Worth it,” he murmurs, petting a hand absently over the faint, empty ache in his belly. He traces the pattern of bruises running up his arm and can feel the marks scattered over the rest of his body, throbbing faintly. At least it will make his octopus excuse sound more credible.

He lets his head roll indolently to one side as Shiro comes back, collapsing next to him and taking the joint out of Keith’s slack fingers. A spot of light catches Keith’s eye. “Shiro,” he says calmly, pausing to take a drag when the joint is held to his lips. Shiro grunts curiously, attention focused more on his hand laying over Keith’s on his stomach. “Did you trip over the camera?”

Shiro hums, following Keith’s gaze. His eyes widen as he sees that the camera he’d set up earlier is laying on the floor a few feet away, facing them with it’s little red light blinking cheerfully. “Huh. I guess I did.”

Keith’s lips curl up in a slow smile even as he coughs out smoke. “Did you also happen to forget to turn it off before we left,” he says, after his throat stops burning but before his head goes fuzzy and takes off for space.

“...I guess I did.”

Keith turns to him, wide-eyed. “Can we go on a Safari?” he asks hopefully. “I wanna see the big cats.”

Shiro laughs and nuzzles affectionately at his shoulder. “Sure, baby. All the big cats.”

Keith grins happily and leans in to blow smoke into his mouth, turning it into a messy kiss after. “Happy birthday, Daddy.”

**Author's Note:**

> *CBD cream/oil: Cannabidiol oil. It's (usually) made from hemp and has amazing pain relieving qualities. Shit's amazing, seriously.  
> * If anyone is interested in what Keith's outfit looks like, [here](https://i.imgur.com/W2pCdWB.jpg) is a general idea. And these are the [shorts](https://i.imgur.com/E9VVP7y.jpg). Also, I may or may not have attempted that position with the underwear (well, with pants) to see if it was actually possible. It is. XD
> 
> Twitter: [kenda1l1](https://twitter.com/kenda1l1)  
> Tumblr: [Votrashed](https://voltrashed.tumblr.com) (mostly inactive)
> 
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * "<3" as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> This author replies to comments (sometimes it just takes me a while to get over my glee and figure out how to reply.)


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